Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-04-15
THE DOWNWARD PATH.

Vast heaps of rubbish, piles of timber
and large quantity OF broken ma
chinery loomed far up above the watel
edge, while ever and anon the splashinf
waves, borne along by the resistless tide
seemed to reach out eagerly to the dark
objects on the shore.
One could not help shnddering. MOI
prevent feeling of loneliness, aye even
of danger, were he to contemplate this
gloomy prospt ct alone. or at the solemn
hour Of midnight; for 10 such places
thieves, robbers, even murderers some
times find lurking. place.
Doubtless it was this conclusion which
led the stout.hearted officers of justice
to the spot, and increased the awe of the
half.frightened beings who, from Curl
osity, had left their huts amid the rocks,
aad with their squalid, dirty children,
had gone after the ''p'lice.
A careful search was at once institute
ed in among the lumber; around and
about every heap Of rubbish eager eyes
peered, yet for onoe they seemed to have
lost their track, and one of the number
turned away 10 evident disgust, exclaim-
"Perhaps you will think it worth
while. comrade, to cross the river, for
our bird isn't on this side-Tm blessed if
he is.
ssNot so fast, Nevers. Heigh ho!
What have we here?" said his sharp
looking companion, clambering over q
heap Of rusty iron to- the other side,
where an old boiler lay hid from view.
Lets have look at this article"
"Come along, Saunders" shouted his
comrade. "It's q lot of old trumpery
that we examined before"
sT'm not so sure Of it," returned the
widewake man, pricking up his ears like
an animal about to spring upon his prey.
"By the great Jove, I've got you at last
my darling, or it's your ghost"
And with his iron grasp he drew from
his hiding place a being who scarcely
seemed O mortal man, such a wild,
haunted and haggard expression did his
pioatei aud disfigured features wear.
Thirteen years before the occurrence
of the incident which we have just re.
lated there dwelt ia the village Of W.
= family called Stanhope.
Charles Stanhope, his wife and only
son, composed the members of the
household; and never, perhaps. in
long existence, could there have been
found q more united, happy family.
Kind and considerate to all, yet hav-
ing enough of their own affairs to claim
their strict attention, they seldom went
abroad; and this doubtless, was the
reaseu that their somewhat gossiping
neighbors had been pleased to term
them ''stuck up" or that, as young
Stanhope's years increased, the idle and
dissolute youths of the place, who had
failed to make him one like themselves,
would occasionally taunt him concern.
ing the wholesome restraint which his
father exercised over him, while they
painted, in glowing colors, the vast ad.
vantage of having what they called
liberty.
Matters went on thus for q time.
Robert Stanhope found amusement and
interest in healthful sport, wholesome
books and the friendship of Lillie Law.
renee. the only daughter of an early
friend of Mrs. Stanhope, who. with her
parents, had come to reside in the place.
Five years passed rapidly away in
this quiet manner. Robert had attained
his eighteenth year, and was preparing,
by his own industry and the influence of
his fathers employer, to enter the whole
sale establishment of Bern & Brothers,.
hoping to work his way up from an
humble clerk to loftier position, when
suddenly an occurrence took place
which. for time at least, claimed his
whole attention, namely, the death of
his father, from whom he had been
parted but few hours, and who then
was in his usual health.
Mr.. Stanhope had gone down to the
mill of which he was superintendent,
and while examining some machinery
had fallen from the scaffold. and lived
hut one hour after he reached his home;
vet during that period, though sunering
intensely, he had found . voice to say to
his son:
"Remember, my boy. that to have a
conscience void Of offense, before God
and man, is the greatest liberty that
can be enjoyed"
After the funeral Mrs. Stanhops de-
cided to remain in the cottage which
had belonged to her husband, whose
EMPLOYER now came forward to offer his
sympathy to the afflicted family, and by
whose arrangements Robert Stanhope
finally decided to enter the employ of
Bern & Brothers. And now, with the
readers permission, we will leave him
In his new position, to follow the foot.
steps of three other young men who
have something to do with our story.
The trio to whom We would turn at
tention were youths, aged respectively
". IS and 20. With o light, swagger.
ing air they sauntered into q saloon,
where an odor Of whisky and tobacco
seemed to be striving for the pre-emi-
Jenoe.
II say, Charlie" said the eldest of
the three to his youngest companion, $50
the rich old uncle says you've got TO be
. good boy. Where are you boxed
for7"
"B.rn L Brothers, confound him''
returned the youth, kicking at-the leg
of the table before which they were
seated.
IA stingy old cur as ever lived. ro-
turned Harris, the first speaker. "But
never mind, my boy; the old man will
not last long. I've got it from head
quarters"
"Thats all hnmbug; for though he's a
bedridden old curse, he's as strong as a
lion and has q pair of lungs like brass.
II you'd hear him lecture me, you'd say
he was good fer twenty years more"
"Whatever possessed him to think oi
Bern & Brothers" asked the one whom
they called Crogg. "He doesn't mean
TO make merchant OF you?"
mo; habits Of industry, etc., he sniv.
eIs about. But I'm not going to set the
Thames on fire--not much But say, y
he added, with sudden animation, ''who
do you think il booked for the same
house! You'll never in the world guess. y
"Then why don't you tell us?" ex
claimed Harris. with an expression not
TO be mentioned to ears polite.
"You remember young Stanhope OF
W., who shunned u ~ though We